Gone
by Rohiloh
Summary: She had failed. She failed everyone, but most of all she failed the peace. It wouldn't be long before peace had consumed her mind.
**Gone**

It was dark outside, about 23:00. A number of apartment buildings loomed over the streets, dimly lit by brightened windows and anachronistic street lights. Police sirens and helicopters could be heard in the distance as a mysterious figure limped towards one of the apartments. Her face was filled with a mixed expression of pain and failure. A mysterious object strapped to her chest flickered on and off, until it gave one last flash, briefly making the woman blink out of existence, before staying at a dim glow.

She went up to the 4th floor, got to her room, and then collapsed on the bed once inside. It was almost pitch black, only illuminated by an ajar window. As she lay there she could only think of failure. She failed to save Mondatta, she failed to stop Widowmaker, and she even failed to get out unharmed. Many of her ribs were broken, as well as one of her arms. She would've used some medicine by now, but she decided to wallow in the pain and misery. Sure, they called her a hero; but do heroes fail to keep the peace?

As those thoughts flurried through her mind, a man clad in black watched. In his hands he held a briefcase, and inside was a machine unknown to man, a metallic snake of sinister and parasitic appearance. She failed to notice as he slipped this machine through the window, and only did when it was too late.

The machine leapt at her. She could not escape, she could not bend time, nor was she in the physical condition to run away. Her heart raced as she attempted to keep it away with her one good arm, and tried to give a large shriek when the machine injected a blue liquid into her arm and her neck. The arm fell limp, and she calmed down. Her heartbeat slowed and all of her pain and panic melted away. The machine reared up, opened a screen attached to its face, and pressed it against her eyes. As the clock neared 3:00, the machine planted a chip into her temple, then left.

Tracer woke up. She remembered the events of last night, and got ready to report to Winston; but her mind became foggy. She could remember fighting… her.. what was her name? All she could remember was Mondatta dying. She must've been there… did she fail to save him? She began to cry, but before she could reflect on his death a sudden breeze of calm came over her. She forgot all about Mondatta, and instead focused on getting ready and reporting what happened that night to the others.

* * *

She entered the bathroom and proceeded to patch herself up. As she did so, she noticed her skin was slightly paler, and her fingertips had a very slight purple hue to them. She was startled for a moment, but that too was soon forgotten, along with any suspicions brewing inside her head.

She left the apartment complex, where she was greeted by a car, with McCree and Torbjorn inside.

"Hey McCree, hey Torbjorn." Whispered Tracer.

"Hey there." replied McCree.

"What'cha guys up to?"

"Don't you remember? We're regrouping all the agents we can get at the compound, and then we'll move out to Gibraltar."

"Great! It's been years since I last visite-"

"Shh, don't wake everyone up. We're already at risk just rollin' around in this car."

She frowned, "Alright, fine." and got in.

Torbjorn gave her a quick glance, then his eyebrows turned into a concerned frown as he turned to look again.

"Did something happen Tracer? You look a bit, er, different."

McCree shifted a bit and looked at them both through the rearview mirror. Tracer paused for a moment, trying once again to remember what happened.

In the middle of thought, she blurted out: "Mondatta died last night, and I couldn't save him," She instantly switched from anger to weeping. "Widowmaker, she- she killed him!"

After a brief pause with all heads hung low, McCree turned around to face both of them: "If there's one thing I'm sure of in this world, it's that in the end, justice will be dispensed. Might be me who does it, or someone else, but one of these days Talon will get what's coming to them."

Both Tracer and Torbjorn smiled in agreement, and while McCree and Torbjorn conversed with each other, Tracer looked through the window.

She muttered "You and your justice will be dead soon enough, miscreant."

She was shocked by the words coming out of her own mouth; _'What's wrong with me!?'_ she thought. _'I can't think straight, I don't remember anything!'_ Just before she began to weep harder, another wave of calm hit her. The last tears were swept away, and she stared blankly through the window.

After a few minutes of driving, they arrived outside the complex.

"Alright, we're here." Said McCree.

Whispers began to form in the back of Tracer's head. "I'll go inside soon, just need to get a bite to eat."

"You sure about that? We have plenty of food inside." said Torbjorn.

"Nah, I'll be fiiine." Tracer gave a delayed smile. "It's only 4:30-something, not many people will be around. I'll just grab a snack."

Torbjorn's concern visibly returned. "Fine, just don't let anybody notice you around."

Tracer walked silently through the abandoned streets. She was in a daze, any train of thought she had was stopped. As she wandered, a cry echoed out of a dark basement. Her heartbeat rose, and without hesitation she rushed inside guns drawn, only to see no one. As she halted at the doorway, she heard the distinctive sound of a scope adjusting.

A whisper came from a dark corner: "Amelie."

Her pistols clattered as she dropped them, and slumped to the ground on her knees. Tracer's body was almost frozen; her heartbeat had dropped to abnormal levels, and she couldn't move a muscle.

Widowmaker emerged from the shadows and inspected her catch.

"Looks like Reaper wasn't lying," she said as she gave off a sly grin, "I would've preferred to kill you, but perhaps you'll be more useful like this."

She couldn't think. She couldn't feel. All she could do was listen.

Widowmaker studied Tracer's head and found a scar. Her smile grew as she removed one of Tracer's gloves. Then, grabbing a needle, she injected a viscous dark blue liquid into her neck. The purple tint grew up to her elbows. Tracer clutched her head and began to violently shake as her ears rung.

"Listen, " Tracer's ears began to ring intensely, and she shut her eyes.

"You belong to Talon now." Those words echoed through her ears and flashed in her mind.

"You will be loyal to Talon." The purple tint slowly began to grow up her body and into to her face

"You will be loyal to me, and you will do nothing, but kill."

Tracer became still, and she opened her eyes. Her pupils were a glowing amber.

* * *

She left the basement and began to head back to the compound. A microphone was hidden in her jacket, that was zipped up to the neck. Her hair was a bit longer on one side, to hide the larger chip that had been installed. She walked much more slowly than she used to, as if all of her energy had been sucked out of her.

She stopped right outside of the compound, and injected an epinephrine cocktail into her wrist. Her normal skin tone returned, and she seemed almost normal again. McCree was waiting for her at the entrance.

"What ya' get to eat?"

"Just a protein bar." She responded in her usual jolly voice, coupled with a slight smirk.

McCree chuckled, "How do you even run that much? Does that 'chromal accelerator' or whatever of yours make you weigh as much as a feather?" As they chatted, they entered the compound together.

* * *

Winston leapt up into the air, crawling up the slope. As Widowmaker and Reaper fled, Tracer placed the Doomfist back into its display container, said some encouraging words to some runts, and blinked up onto the roof. Winston was throwing whatever he could find, and gibbered at the aircraft as it flew away.

"I didn't know you were such a terrible shot," said Winston as he pulled another pair of glasses out of his pocket.

"They didn't hit me either, love."

"Instead, they hit me." Tracer gave him a fake laugh.

Another aircraft appeared from the horizon, with Mercy and Reinhardt inside. They charged out, "Where are they!?" yelled Reinhardt as he charged out.

They dodged out of the way as Reinhardt crashed into a wall.

"They escaped, but they didn't manage to take the Doomfist," Replied Winston. "C'mon, let's go."

* * *

They arrived at Watchpoint Gibraltar, and proceeded to meet up at Headquarters. After the meeting was over, Tracer left and was walking on her own, when a subtle beep noise came from the chip. She inspected her surroundings and then casually walked into an alley. It was Widowmaker. "We're planning to assault Gibraltar, where we will kill most of the rallying Overwatch agents. Your priority target is Mercy, and if possible terminate any others you can. Once you have accomplished this, retreat to the southern side of the island, where we will begin our assault."

She pulled a knife out of her boot and hid it up her sleeve, then proceeded to go over to Mercy's office.

It was right next to Torbjorn's workshop, where a constant stream of hammerings and grumbling emanated from within.

She entered the office, "Come in!" said Mercy.

"Oi, doctor, I've got this weird pain in my temple, could you, uh, check it out?" asked Tracer.

"Of course! Just sit down on the bench." She went over with her Caduceus Staff and proceeded to inspect her head, finding the scar. Tracer raised her hand to the sleeve.

"What is thi-" asked Mercy, as Tracer grabbed her hair, drew the knife and stabbed her in the throat. Mercy was in disbelief and shock as her blood was spilt all over Tracer's jacket.

Tracer grinned as she felt the first joy she had in a very long time. Mercy collapsed to the ground, and Tracer proceeded to quickly put a silencer over both of her Pulse Pistols. She pulled out a hypodermic needle with the blue liquid, and injected it into her neck.

She left the office, covered in blood, with pale purple skin. Her hair had fallen down and no emotion could be seen on her face; the old Tracer was gone. Torbjorn failed to hear, and was still working. She pulled the pistol up to the back of his head, and emptied it out. He slumped onto the floor, his face mutilated to an unrecognizable point.

McCree rushed over, and saw her. His face was full of confusion, which was quickly replaced by hatred and feelings of betrayal.

"You murderous bitch, I should've known they nabbed you!" He drew, and shot her in the kidney.

She did not flinch. McCree raised his Peacekeeper to put a bullet between her eyes when she blasted his breastplate and threw a pulse bomb. He leapt into a nearby building as Tracer blinked away.

She was approaching the southern side when she encountered Reinhardt blocking the way.

"How… how could you Tracer? Why are you doing this?"

She laughed in his face, then shot him. He swung wildly around himself, smashing the walls around them as she blinked around him. Finally, he sent a fire strike which sent Tracer on her back. He was about to bring the hammer down on her when a shot rang out, and Reinhardt tumbled down the stairs.

Tracer turned, and saw Widowmaker along with squads of Talon troops pouring out of the ships. Reinhardt wasn't quite dead, and he launched himself into safety. Reaper approached her.

He looked into her eyes, and she stared right back.


End file.
